“You look surprised,” Luca said after the waiter had taken our drink orders and left us with the menu.
“I didn’t think you’d go for Asian food, considering everything.” That was all I could say in a crowded restaurant, but Luca knew I was talking about the Taiwanese Triad.
“This restaurant is the best Asian restaurant in town, and it doesn’t belong to an Asian chain.”
I frowned. Was it under the protection of the Familia?
“It’s independent.”
“There are independent restaurants in New York?”
The couple at the table beside us gave me a strange look. For them our conversation was probably more than a little weird.
“A few, but we’re in negotiations right now.”
I snorted.
Luca pointed at my menu. “Do you need help?”
“Yeah, I’ve never tried Korean.”
“The marinated silk tofu and the bulgogi beef are delicious.”
“You eat tofu?”
Luca shrugged. “If it’s prepared like this, then yes.”
I shook my head. This was surreal. “Just order what you think is best. I eat everything except for liver.”
“I like women that eat more than salad.”
The waiter returned and took our orders. I fumbled with the chopsticks, trying to figure out the best way to use them.
“Have you never used sticks before?” Luca asked with a smirk. Was he mocking me?
“My parents only took us to their favorite Italian restaurant and I wasn’t really allowed to go anywhere alone.” Bitterness rang in my voice.
“You can go anywhere you want now.”
“Really? Alone?”
Luca lowered his voice. “With Romero or me, or Cesare when Romero isn’t available.”
Of course.
“Here, let me show you.” He took his own chopsticks and held them up. I tried to imitate his grip and after a few tries, I managed to move the sticks without dropping them. When our food arrived, I realized that it was much harder to grab onto something with sticks.
Luca watched with obvious amusement as I took three tries to bring a piece of tofu to my lips.
“No wonder New York girls are so thin if they eat like this all the time.”
“You are more beautiful than all of them,” he said. I scanned his face, trying to figure out if he was being truthful, but as usual his face was unreadable. I allowed myself to admire his eyes. They were unusual with their darker ring around the gray. They weren’t exactly cold right now, but I remembered them being that way.
Luca snatched a piece of marinated beef and held it out in front of me. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Luca mirrored my expression but his was more challenging. I leaned forward and closed my lips around the sticks, then pulled back, savoring the taste of the bulgogi beef. Luca’s eyes seemed to darken as he watched me.
“Delicious,” I said. Luca picked up a piece of Tofu next and I took it eagerly. This was better than trying to wrangle the chopsticks into submission.
I was grateful that Luca showed me this normal side of him. It gave me hope. Maybe that was his intention, but I didn’t care.
***
The relaxation I’d felt during dinner evaporated when Luca and I returned to our penthouse and stepped into the bedroom. I went into the bathroom and took my time getting ready before I returned.
Luca’s eyes took in my long dark satin nightgown. It reached my calves but had a slit that went up to my thighs. It was still much more modest than the horrible thing I’d worn on our wedding night. And yet I was sure there was desire in his eyes.
Once he’d disappeared into the bathroom, I walked toward the window and busied myself watching the nightly skyline. I was almost as nervous as last night. I knew I wasn’t ready for more than kissing. I didn’t turn when I heard Luca come up beside me. His impressive stature was reflected in the windows. Like yesterday he was only wearing briefs. I watched him reach out for me, and every muscle in my body tensed. If he noticed my reaction, he didn’t let it show. He trailed a knuckle down the length of my spine, sending a tingling sensation through my body. When I didn’t react he extended his hand, palm upward, an invitation not a command, and yet I knew there was only one right answer.
I faced him, but my eyes were drawn to the long scar on his palm. I ran my fingertips over it. “Is that from the blood oath?” I peered up into his unreadable face. I knew during the initiation ceremony, men had to let blood while reciting the words of the oath.
“No. This is.” He turned his other hand where a small scar marred his palm. “That,” he said with a nod toward the scar I was still touching. “…happened in a fight. I had to stave off a knife attack with my hand.”
I wanted to ask him about the first time he killed a man, but he curled his fingers around my wrist and led me toward the bed. My throat became too tight for words when he sat on the mattress and pulled me between his legs. I tried to relax into his kiss and when he made no move to take things further I actually felt the tension slip away and began to enjoy his experienced mouth, but then he lay back and pulled me onto the bed with him.
His kisses became more forceful and I could feel his erection pressed up against my thigh. Still I didn’t pull back. I could do this. I knew it was coming. His hand cupped my breast and I stiffened despite my best intentions not to. He didn’t remove it, but didn’t move it either. His kisses made thinking difficult. Would it really be so bad to sleep with Luca? He drew back a couple of inches and trailed kisses toward my ear. “I’ve never wanted to fuck a woman as much as I want to fuck you right now.”
I froze. His words made me feel cheap. He was my husband and he had a right to my body, if you asked anyone in our family anyway, but I deserved better than that. I didn’t want to be fucked like he was used to doing with other women. I was his wife. I wanted more. I turned my head and pushed my palms against his chest. After a moment, he relented.